


What Is Right

by Silbane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Female Draco Malfoy, Female!Draco, Narcissa dies, OOC, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 12,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbane/pseuds/Silbane
Summary: Drea's father was always there for her when she was young, but the death of Narcissa makes him aloof. Distance brings out odd feelings from within her.Female!Draco infatuated with her father. If this isn't your type of thing, stay far, far away.





	1. Age Five

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will feature a female Draco through different stages of her life. There will be incestuous feelings and reciprocation. You've been warned.

"Ow!"

A small yelp echoed through the garden and startled the couple taking a leisurely stroll down a path of trimmed grass. The man, Lucius Malfoy, quickened his step to the source of the cry while his wife Narcissa continued behind at her normal pace.

He arrived first and knelt down beside a blonde little girl currently sat on her rear clutching a scuffed knee. "Are you alright, my dear?" He asked with a furrow in his brow.

"I'm alright Daddy, I just tripped." Her knee stung and tears streamed down her cheeks but she made no further complaints.

"Tsk, Drea. You mustn't run, it's unladylike." Narcissa offered a disappointed smile to her daughter as she came around the corner to the site.

"I'm sorry Mummy." She closed her eyes to the throbbing pain.

Lucius removed the wand from his walking cane and held her knee with his free hand. " _Episkey_." The scraped skin slowly mended itself and healed up, though a bit of dry blood remained. "Better?"

Drea wiped her eyes and threw a beaming smile up to her father, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Yes, thank you Daddy!"

"You're very welcome." He hugged her in return and she ran off, this time at a _bit_  more careful of a speed.

Narcissa sighed and placed her hand in Lucius's offered arm once he had righted himself to a standing position. "She certainly is a Daddy's girl."

Lucius chuckled.


	2. Age Nine

Drea toyed with the loose ends of hair falling about her shoulders. She wasn't used to the small wisps of hair swirling around her cheeks as she walked through the hallway, they tickled and annoyed her, but she would have to grow used to it.

The sound of heeled boots and the thud of an accompanying cane came faintly from the direction she was heading. She swiftly placed her hands at her sides; her mother had recently taken to scolding her for her habit of fidgeting.  _A lady mustn't fidget._

"Oh, hello, Daddy."

"Hello, my dear." He smiled and stepped to the side to allow her passage, but narrowed his eyes as she passed. "Drea, did you change something about your hair?"

"Mhm." She began to clench the fabric of her skirt absently but corrected herself.

Lucius tipped his chin up awaiting an explanation.

"Um, I no longer plait it."

"For any particular reason?"

"It feels juvenile." She felt a blush creeping to her cheeks.

His brows furrowed for a moment, then raised in realization. "I see."

"Do you dislike it?" Her teeth found her bottom lip.

"No, it's very becoming."

She released her lip. "Oh. Thank you."

Lucius bowed his head with a smile and continued down the hall.


	3. Age Ten

The dinner table was quiet apart from the occasional tink of glass and porcelain. Drea sipped the last of her water and set her glass down.

Lucius glanced over and snapped his ungloved fingers, beckoning a house elf to refill it.

"Thank you, Daddy."

There was a moment of pause as the eating resumed until Narcissa set down her silverware. "Drea, I think you're becoming a bit mature to keep addressing us in such a way."

Drea's eyes shot up to look at her mother. "Oh," she cleared her throat, "Sorry Mum-Mother. Thank you,  _Father._ "

He paused with tight lips, but quickly smiled. "It's quite alright, Drea."


	4. Age Twelve

Drea stood beside Lucius as the last of the guests exited the manor, all of them expressing their condolences as they passed. A house elf shut the door behind the final guest then disappeared to begin sorting and putting away the cards and gifts piled on tables in the ballroom.

Lucius took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped now that no one outside of the family was there to see him imperfect. Drea looked to him, startled by the heartache evident on his face, and in a display unlike she'd shown since she was a young child threw her arms around his neck in a hug.

Though shocked at first, he soon accepted the hug and returned it gratefully.

The rich scent of his cologne made her heartbeat quicken.


	5. Age Thirteen

The sound of a heavy wooden door opening startled Drea into dropping her spoon onto the table. "Father?"

Lucius's eyebrows rose as he strolled into the dining room to take a seat beside her, the first time he had done so in ages. "Yes, Drea?"

"You're here for dinner."

"Is it unusual for me to eat in my own home?"

She turned her attention back to her spoon, retrieving it from the napkin it had fallen on. He picked up his own napkin and placed it in his lap. "Of course not."

With a satisfied smirk, he began to eat. She peeked at him over the rim of her glass as she drank, noting how much paler he was than usual and the slight purple showing under his eyes. If she weren't mistaken, the smell of stale alcohol wafted through the air. But perhaps he'd been brewing.


	6. Age Fourteen, Part 1

The dream always came to her on the nights he returned to the manor. Drea felt she couldn't quite call it a nightmare if the only terror she experienced was after the fog of sleep cleared from her thoughts.

_A girl shouldn't think of her father this way_. What was wrong with her?

The smell of his cologne lingering in the foyer seemed to trigger it. Each time her senses detected it, it would stop her in her tracks.

Drea turned onto her side and flipped the pillow over, needing the cool fabric on her cheeks. She tried to turn her mind away from the appalling thoughts but was never successful, and only felt more ashamed at the dampness now between her thighs.


	7. Age Fourteen, Part 2

He was home, for once. Drea had heard the scribbling of quill on parchment and thought she had gone mad as she passed by his study. Her heart leapt in her chest and despite the voice in her mind urging her not to, she was too stubborn to keep walking.

She knocked on the door frame and stood to wait for his attention.

His eyes moved to her with no surprise, knowing she would likely stop in. "Good evening, Drea."

"Hello, Father."

"Do you need something?"

"No." She moved to seat herself in one of the leather chairs before his desk. She tried her best to fight the warmth creeping up her throat to her cheeks. "Have you been busy lately?"

His lips pursed as he set down his quill. A most unusual question from his daughter. "There have been meetings lately regarding Hogwarts and the Ministry, not that it is any of your business." He finished with a challenging brow, hoping she wouldn't glance at his parchment.

Drea refrained from tugging at the end of her skirt. "Do you plan to keep me in the dark about  _everything_ you do?"  _You are a terrible Slytherin, you should be ashamed!_ She chided herself, but was tired of his scarcity in their home.

Lucius's eyes narrowed dangerously, affronted by his daughter's seemingly random brashness. "Beg your pardon?"

She tightened her fists and released them. "I know he's back, I've heard the rumors. You never had this many "meetings" before. I know I'm young but I'd at least like to know if my father is in danger!"

After sighing briefly, he turned his attention back to his papers. "It's hardly something to concern yourself with."

"Concern myself?" She scoffed. "Do you even hear yourself? You could go to Azkaban. You could die!"

The muscles in his jaw clenched, his voice quiet. "I am willing to have a civil conversation, but I will not tolerate insubordination from my own daughter."

"I'm not being insubordinate, I just want to know what you're doing!"

He stood, slamming his hands onto the dark wood desk and leaning forward in his most imposing manner. "I am ensuring a greater future for you and everyone else worthy of calling themselves a wizard!"

Her heart beat so fast she was worried she may faint. Never had she seen her father's fury so bright. It was beautiful. "So you are a Death Eater."

Lucius sneered, an expression she had avoided receiving her entire life. "Go to your room."


	8. Age Fifteen, Part 1

She'd known. He all but confirmed it the year before and the rumors were sounding more like facts every day but still Drea had held a naive hope that she was wrong.

It had been brief, just a flash of him before he'd disapparated, but it was enough to know. The cloak, the hood, his... mask. Fearing the worst reaction from herself, she rushed to a washroom nearby and prepared to heave.

She knew that disgust should soon rise up from her, but disgust was not what she felt deep in the pit of her stomach. Her dreams shifted from that night on as well.


	9. Age Fifteen, Part 2

Lucius appeared for dinner for the eighth night in a row, not that Drea was counting. And only a few minutes late.

"Busy day, Father?" She asked, smiling as she brought a piece of roast to her lips.

"Indeed." He removed his gloves, apparently having forgotten to take them off before coming down.

She watched him set them on the table, away from the cutlery. "I appreciate your openness," she teased.

He grinned, satisfied that their new arrangement was working out. Only a month before had he agreed to start telling her more about his daily dealings. "Crabbe Sr. got himself into a bit of trouble."

Drea's eyebrows shot up. "Oh did he?" Crabbe Jr. had been a thorn in her side for the last few years and she was eager to hear bad news, even if it was about his father.

"I can't go into details," he saw her roll her eyes in a very adolescent manner and couldn't stop a small grin from forming on his face, "but I will say that he will be doing the dirtier work for the next few months at least."

She laughed, a bit more delighted than she perhaps should have been, and continued eating.


	10. Age Fifteen, Part 3

Drea looked at herself in the mirror and stifled the sigh forming in her lungs. The sooner she was out the door, the sooner this would be over with. One last look to ensure everything was in its place from the positioning of her necklace to the outline of her lipstick, then she stepped out to make her way to the foyer. Dread coated her stomach and settled there, leaving her uncomfortable as she descended the stairs.

She didn't want this. She was  _his_. 

But, her father had explained, it would tip the scales in his favor for an upcoming agreement between himself and Mr. Nott. One date was all she had agreed to, and only one date was all he assured her would be necessary. Theodore could at least be trusted to remain well-behaved if they were in public.

She reached the bottom of the stairs to find Lucius waiting to escort her to the front door of the manor, where the Notts would no doubt be waiting for her.

He placed his hand on her back and she relished in the warmth of it there. "You look breathtaking," he whispered.

A genuine smile graced her lips and she would use the ecstasy his compliment gave her to power through the next two hours of her day. "Thank you, Father."


	11. Age Sixteen

Half a year and a world of experience later, with nearly all of Slytherin growing restless, Drea was happy to return to the quiet of home. Not a day passed that she didn't think or worry of her father, but to be home and with him again was nothing short of bliss.

Her return was celebrated with a feast of her favorite foods and she received two beautiful new sets of robes, personally picked out by Lucius.

She changed into her evening robes and admired how well they fit her. He'd never been so eager to see her back, but she thought he may grow lonely in her absence. Feeling spry, she set off toward his study to find him.

Drea cleared her throat as she entered the room, catching him as he poured a glass of something from a decanter. He turned to face her and stole a glance at her robes seeming pleased with himself. 

"They fit well I see."

"Indeed. They're lovely, Father, thank you."

"No thank you necessary, my dear."

She looked to the glass in his hand. "Firewhisky?"

"Occassionally, yes." He took a sip and gestured to her with his drink. "Hm?"

Her eyebrows rose but she wasn't about to refuse his offer. "If you'd be so kind."

He poured another glass while she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, then handed it to her and sat in the chair adjacent. They raised their glasses briefly and he watched as she drank with minimal disturbance. She felt the burn certainly, but from her experimentation in the last year with her terrible influence of a friend Pansy, she'd grown accustomed to it.

Lucius laughed under his breath as he stopped himself from taking his own swig.

"Something funny?"

"Nothing at all," he replied with a smirk.

"Thought I hadn't tried it before?"

"Hardly."

"I see." She squinted her eyes at him and smiled, "So what sorts of trouble have you heard your daughter has gotten into?"

Unphased by her question, he rested his glass on the arm of the chair, stroking the cane resting beside it. "None I've heard about, but judging by your easy consumption of a rather potent drink..." He let the remainder of his sentence hang with implications.

"And what else?" She grinned into her glass, ignoring the warmth spreading through her body.

He sighed, rubbing a finger on his bottom lip in speculation. She tried not to stare and failed. "I suppose you may have tried other alcohols, perhaps some potions or edible things a Malfoy shouldn't be dabbling in," he cast her a sharp look that wasn't entirely serious, "or a tobacco pipe but not enjoyed it, as women often don't."

Drea laughed as he accurately described her last school year, though the last part caught her attention. "A woman? _Moi_?"

He pinched his lips together, continuing on, "I don't assume you've tried anything too rash. And then there are the things that are best left not expanded upon."

"Such as?" She prompted.

"Well you haven't come home starry-eyed and blushing with any names on the tip of your tongue so I don't think you've been ensnared by any of your schoolmates."

"That doesn't mean anything. I could be having an affair right now and you wouldn't even know."

He lifted and tipped his glass in surrender. "That's very possible."

" _Very_?" She feigned offense as she finished her drink. "Do you think your daughter is easy?"

Lucius watched the liquid in his glass as he swirled it about, but Drea paid no attention to the fact that he hadn't taken a drink of it since sitting down. "Absolutely not. I'm simply surprised one of your dashing young schoolmates hasn't slithered his way into your heart yet."

"Not for lack of trying, I assure you." Slipping in her poise, she rolled her eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes dear, it's unbecoming."

"I'll show  _you_ unbecoming," she joked back.

An odd smile crept onto Lucius lips. "Keep talking like that and I'll have to ground you."

"No spankings?"  _Had she said that out loud?_

"Careful little girl, you're lucky I haven't laid a hand on your arse yet."

"I thought you said I was a woman."  _This is strong._

"In some respects," he set his glass down once more, staring directly into her eyes. "Your body is growing into itself, but you are still naive, and your flirtation is not yet subtle."

A shard of ice found itself in her veins. "My what?"

He paused, his piercing gaze unrelenting. "It is not smart to tempt the man who raised you."

Ice and flames warred within her. "What if I want to tempt him?"

"Then he has raised a fool."

 _All in_. "Foolish perhaps, but I desire it."

"Desire is a tool to be used, Drea, not something to fall prey to."

"And what can I do to make you fall, Father?"

Finally, his eyes broke away. "Enough of this." He stood from his chair and went back to the decanter, glass still full.

She followed suit, glass very much empty. "You could have turned me away."

"And what would you have learned?"

She continued to step toward him. "You knew what I was doing from the start but you toyed with the idea, with me."

He faced her, setting the glass down. "To teach you a  _lesson_ ," he whispered to her in a harsh tone.

She stood in front of him now, discarding her own glass on the table. "And indulge yourself in the mean time?"

"Enough!"

That beautiful fury. Her teeth found her lips easily and bit at them.

He sneered at her, "Get out. Go to bed!"

"Ugh!" Drea threw her hands up and marched toward the door.

He hesitated for a moment before clarifying, " _Yours!_ "


	12. Negotiations

Drea arrived to breakfast surprised to see Lucius already eating. Honestly, she had thought he would start avoiding her after their altercation the night before, so it was a welcome surprise.

"Good morning, Father."

"Good morning, Drea."

She seated herself beside him at the table and began to eat as well. The silence was almost unbearable, but she refused to be the first to speak regarding the matter on the forefront of their minds.

He finished his meal and placed his fork beside his plate. "I believe we have some things to discuss."

Her stomach jumped into her throat.

 _Just breathe._  "I agree."

"Good. When you are finished eating, I ask that you meet me in my study." He moved his chair back and left the dining room, and she was left with her mind in a frenzy.

What was he going to say? Was he still angry? And why did it have to be in the study? She was ashamed and embarrassed of what she had done, but could she really be blamed when he'd fed her alcohol? For the first time since their altercation, she wondered how long he'd known about her attraction to him.

 

Sitting in the same chairs as the night before but in the scrutiny of daylight was surreal.

He sat, legs crossed, with his cane resting on his lap and his hand on his chin. "I can only assume that whatever uncouth desires you have for me have stemmed from my absence these last few years. Do you think that is correct, Drea?"

She suddenly felt quite silly wearing the other pair of robes he'd purchased for her. She knew he was giving her an opportunity to save face; genuine generosity, from what she had seen and heard, was not something he practiced often. It made her even more thankful. "It may."

His brows knitted together. "Then what can we do to absolve these feelings?"

"I'm... not sure, Father."

"Would spending more time together help to break whatever illusions you have of me? What if I offered to allow you to help me with my work?"

She knew she had to tread carefully. "Which work?"

He lifted his chin. "I will not put you in harm's way, if that is what you mean."

"Then perhaps, yes." The air in his study, she thought suddenly, felt so stale when there was no fire to warm it.

"I believe it would also benefit the both of us to teach you Occlumency. Your mother was a skilled Occlumens, but unfortunately passed away before she could bestow her knowledge upon you."

"Very well."

He dipped his head in agreement. "Good girl."


	13. Lessons

Drea took the parchment being handed to her by her father and kept herself from touching his hand as she did so. To fight the urge was infuriating but necessary if she wanted their interactions to continue.

She'd known immediately after agreeing to help him with his "business" that it would only exacerbate her need for him, but she also knew that if she pretended to be making progress, he would be more willing to spend time with her.

The summer ahead was long, and she planned to get the most out of it that she could. Drea was being short-sighted of course, but not all Slytherins are planners, she thought.

"Proofread if you would, and let me know what you think." Lucius smiled.

"I'll see what I can make of it, Father." she grinned and with every bit of mental strength she had, tried to keep her mind from wandering to the soft-looking platinum hair gracing his shoulders, the shoulders that were only separated from her view by a few bits of fabric that could easily be--there she went again. She blinked hard and reread the beginning of the parchment.

 

The day went much like this, not entirely casual but also not heavily moderated. Plagued with meandering thoughts.

Lucius stood from the desk and stretched his legs. "I think it's time for your first lesson."

Drea's stomach did a flip. "Alright." She stood as well and followed him to the lounge chairs by the fireplace. 

"Dinner should be ready by the time we're done, it will give us a good opportunity to go over some tips I have in mind and discuss your experience."

Was it possible for a stomach to turn upside down? She felt it must be. "Very well."

She took a seat in one chair, while her father moved the other to sit opposite her.

"Now I don't want you to look at this exercise with fear, it will only make what you fear showing me easier for me to find."

"That's easy to say, but isn't as easy in practice." She felt sweat begin to form on her palms and tried not to rid herself of it in an obvious way.

He chuckled. "Relax as best you can. Sit comfortably. I will be as gentle as I can."

Blush rushed to her cheeks no matter how much she willed it not to. "Do I have to do anything else?"

He spoke as he pulled his cane into his lap and began to remove the wand. "The goal of Occlumency is to shield your thoughts and better control your urges. All that is necessary of you is to clear your mind."

She nodded. _Clear your mind._

_But look at his wrist, it's exposed just that bit when his sleeves move up--_

_Clear your bloody mind._

She took a deep breath and tried to push all of her thoughts to the side. It took a long moment, but she did. "I think I'm ready."

Lucius glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "That will have to be good enough." He lifted his wand as they met eyes, and for the first time she could tell that he was hiding his own fears. " _Legilimens_."


	14. Mistakes

Fog, water, then a rush.

Lucius was in her mind, she could feel it, but not in a way she could describe. He didn't seem to be searching for anything, and she was thankful for that, just probing.

She felt a dim light somewhere in her thoughts. It must be him, could he hear her? Feeling around in her mind? Feeling  _her_ _?_

_Feeling her._

Fuck.

Another rush came, one she tried desperately to stop, though she didn't know how to. Parts of her nightly fantasies came to the forefront, a montage of touch, cries, and release, each vision more vulgar than the last.  _Father, stop, please!_

She couldn't tell if that was her or her dream self, lost in one of her more twisted imaginings, though the Drea in her dreams didn't really want her father to stop.

 _Rush_.

Her head ached. She heard breathing, heavy, of two people. One of them must be her.

Drea dared to open her eyes. Instantly against the beaming sunlight of the afternoon she met her father's horrified gaze, wand dropped to the floor and forgotten.

No.  _No!_

She leaned forward, "Father I--"

"Quiet." He didn't move.

"Father _please_ \--" she felt tears prick her eyes.

Lucius rose to his feet in a flash of movement. Ripping his unblinking stare from her finally, he made his way out of the room as he mumbled, "What have I done?"

Drea's breath hitched and a sharp cry of agony pierced the room.

 

 


	15. Confessions

Drea didn't see her father for several days, most likely because she refused to leave her bedroom. Her bed had become her sanctuary, as she had deemed eating and bathing inconvenient. The house elves managed to convince her on the second day of hiding that tea would help, but any offered sandwiches were ignored. By the fourth day, the house elves had alerted their master of his daughter's state and asked what was to be done.

"Drea," the door to her room creaked open and a large figure cast a shadow across her floor.

This wasn't the first time her mind had tricked her into thinking he'd come to her, and despite her wanting to believe in the delusion, she ignored it.

"Drea you must eat something." His voice sounded more hollow than usual, though. Usually the man in her mind was stronger, more demanding and assertive. "Are you awake?" The click of boots echoed on her floor. A hand touched her arm and she flinched. He was here.

"I don't want to eat."

"Are you planning to starve yourself?"

"No, every food I can think of disgusts me."

"Promise me you will come to dinner tonight at least."

"Why should I bother?" He would only reject her again.

"I have something I want to... confess to you."

She wasn't about to fool herself into thinking the confession was what she wanted it to be. "Fine."

He hesitated, but left her room shortly.

She stared at the door to her bath.

 

The smell making its way through the hallway should have been abhorrent, but her stomach growled at it nonetheless as she made her way to the dining room. The table was set up for two with a steaming array of meats and vegetables on both plates. She took her seat and had to admit that the feel of clean hair no longer clinging to her skin with grease was one she'd missed. The hunger in her stomach grew but she refused to serve herself before he arrived, for fear that what little she could eat would suddenly make a reappearance on the floor.

Her father came through the doorway all robes and formality but there was a darkness under his eyes she hadn't seen in years. When he was seated, he acknowledged her with a nod and picked up his silverware. "We can have our discussion after we've eaten."

She eyed her food warily and tried to pick out things that would be easier to keep down.

"And your plate will be clean, is that understood?"

Drea took a deep breath and picked up her fork. "Yes, Father."

The sense of being in a room with him again was foreign. It had only been a few days, but perhaps she hadn't quite noticed all of the damage she had done to herself in her grief. She picked a piece of turkey up and placed it in her mouth. How could he even bare to look at her after the things he'd seen? She chewed as if it pained her. Was he going to make her spend the rest of her summer elsewhere? The food stuck in her throat when she attempted to swallow and she reached for her glass of water. Beside it, she noticed a potion vial that wasn't there when she'd arrived.

Lucius glanced to her hovering hand and dabbed his napkin at the corners of his mouth. "It's a potion to help you digest your food."

She hesitated, finally swallowing her mouthful without the assistance of water.

"You can take it now if you would like, it may help increase your appetite."

She took it and drank the sour, purple liquid before returning to her plate. The next bite was easier to handle.

When they'd finished, Lucius cleared his throat and stood from his chair. "Would you like this conversation to continue here, or in another location?"

Drea thought for a bit. "The library. It's neutral territory."

"Very well."

 

The library was large but cozy and had a calming effect on her nerves, or perhaps that was a side effect of the potion, and she sat herself in a large curved-back leather chair that squeaked when it was met with her weight. Lucius sat in the matching chair perpendicular to it and steepled his fingers in front of his lips.

Silence reigned for several minutes while he appeared to gather his thoughts and arrange his questions.

Pinching his lips, he looked up to her. "How long have you felt this?"

"This?"

"The attraction you have toward me."

She looked to the floor in consideration. "Since about twelve, I would say. But the dreams didn't start until later."

"As I expected."

"What do you mean?"

He held up an appeasing hand, "We will get to that, but first I have to explain something. I assume it wasn't covered in Severus's curriculum." Drea readjusted her position to lean on the arm rest as she prepared to listen. "In my line of business, it is important for me to be able to... influence certain people and remain in their favor."

She nodded.

"I have several things in my personal arsenal to accomplish that. I know that I am charismatic, and make use of it. I am physically attractive by most standards, which makes me seem more trustworthy. I have excellent listening and conversational skills that I use to remember things about certain people that I can later use to bend them to my will. I use all of these to gain the money and power necessary to uphold our place in society. However, when I was young, your grandfather,  _my_ father, gave me something to get an edge above all of the other powerful Pureblood men I would one day work with. Cologne."

Drea narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Cologne?"

"Yes, but not the type cologne you are thinking of. One brewed like a potion, applied with intent, and inherently magical."

"What does it do?"

Lucius took a deep breath and let it out as he spoke, "Whatever I want it to. Usually to gain sympathy or to intimidate," he sniffed, "or to betwitch a woman for instance--"

Something faintly clicked in the back of her mind. "Mother's funeral?" She cut him off.

"Yes." His jaw set as he steeled himself. "Drea, it was an accident."

She wasn't listening. "I don't understand, what would you gain from wearing it to Mother's funeral?"

"There were... many available witches who would be happy to fill her position. Leaving a mark on them that day was crucial."

"Then why didn't it work?"

"I was approached several times, but I couldn't look at any of them without seeing your mother."

Her eyes searched the floor as she tried to piece it all together. "You didn't think it would influence me?"

"I thought you were too young to be affected."

Was it all fabricated? Was her attraction false from the beginning? She looked up to him. "Are you wearing it now?"

He paused. "No."

Drea left her seat and crossed to him, leaning down to press her fingertips to his cheeks and meeting her lips with his. Her heart was beating faster than she'd ever experienced. It was like fire spread through her veins and static shot to her toes. The smell of his skin was so comforting, how could it not be real? Strong hands seized her shoulders and pushed her away and held her at a distance. Her eyes opened, barely, and registered the furious look he was giving her.

"You have crossed a line," he whispered angrily, baring his teeth in a sneer.

Heat radiated in her nethers, she wanted to kiss him again, but knew she should stop. But she had proven her point. "It was your mistake, Father. Now you have to live with the consequences."


	16. Reprisal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's about to get pretty messed up.

Drea left the room feeling more confident than she could ever recall. Part of her awaited some form of retaliation from her father as she walked away, but none came, and each echoing thud of her footsteps only bolstered her assuredness. She went immediately to her bedroom and a thrill went up her spine as a plan began to form in her mind.

She snatched her wand from the nightstand beside her bed and flung open the doors to her closet, surveying what she had to work with. While part of her pitied him for his honest mistake, she now knew what she wanted and would do anything within her power to get it. Her eyes fell upon a deep sapphire robe hanging near the back of the small room. Perhaps she took more after her father than they thought, she grinned.

 

The next morning cast warm sunlight through her curtains, bidding her to rise with the day. She shot up and read the clock across her room, then hurried to the bath. A short while later, her hair was dried and adequate makeup was applied. She pulled open a drawer beside her and picked one of the many vials laden within, unstoppering it and touching the perfumed liquid to her wrists and neck. Heliotrope wasn't a scent she would normally wear, but normally she wasn't attempting to seduce someone.

She arrived to breakfast earlier than usual, to the confusion of the house elves. After telling them not to hurry their meal preparations but making a special request for later, she sat with her legs crossed and hands in her lap, subtly pushing up her modest breasts by bringing her elbows closer. Silly as it may have been, Drea was determined to be seen as an adult in her father's eyes.

Nearly an hour passed, food gone, with her arse long fallen asleep in the stiff dining chair, and Lucius had not shown himself. Just as well, he was likely brooding over yesterday's developments, but Drea was a patient young woman. She would wait for him elsewhere.

 

Drea found a comfortable spot on the lounge in her father's study with a book in her hand to pass the time. She had made her way four chapters in when she finally heard footsteps in the hallway outside. Her blood pulsed loudly in her ears but she willed herself to pretend she didn't notice him when he stepped in and paused to stare at her.

"Drea."

She placed a finger at her spot on the page and peaked up at him. "Yes, Father?"

He seemed to have a difficult moment trying to form his question in the least offensive way possible. "Why are you in my study?" He hadn't done a very good job.

"I felt like reading."

"And you chose this room because?" He trailed off the question with raised eyebrows.

"The sunlight in here is so much warmer than the library."

The way his nostrils flared in irritation stated how little he believed her excuse. "I see."

Deeming their conversation over, she returned to her place in the book and continued to read, hoping that her smirk wasn't as obvious as it felt on her lips.

 

They sat in relative silence for quite some time, him penning and addressing letters, her reading and occasionally repositioning herself. She sighed, growing tired of her leg falling asleep, and discarded her shoes to bring her feet up onto the lounge. She scooted herself down a bit into ultimately a provocative pose, the newly created slit in her robes sliding open to reveal one of her legs.

His scrawling stopped but she didn't look up. A small, dismissive sniff rebounded in the silent room. She was being heavy-handed. She knew it. Yet still he made no comment.

Denial and feigned ignorance, truly the pureblood way, she thought.

Soon it would be time for dinner and her stomach was beginning to speak of its hunger. Drea closed her book and turned onto her back. She took a deep, satisfied breath and stretched her arms, a small mewling noise escaping her as she brought them back down. Once more he said nothing, so she slipped her shoes back on and made her way toward the door.

"Was that entirely necessary?" He caught her with some venom in his words when she was nearly out of the doorway. She chuckled and didn't bother answering.


	17. Reciprocation

Food was placed before them, and while they waited Drea resumed her position from that morning. Lucius kept his eyes resolutely on the plateware.

"Wine, please." She said to the house elf nearest her.

He glared at her from the corner of his eye, but she paid no attention to him while the servant went down the list of wines she had to choose from. After settling on one, she placed a napkin in her lap but thought better of it and relocated it to tuck gently between her breasts, drawing down the front of her robe slightly in the process. Her smiles were starting to be hard to contain.

Lucius refused when the creature asked if he wanted a glass as well, as if disgusted by the very idea.

 

He rose from his chair when their meal was finished, but Drea placed her hand on his arm. "Would you like some dessert, Father?"

Sighing like her question exhausted him, he looked down at her. "What did you have in mind?"

"Forbidden fruit. Apple pie, of course." She nearly laughed at her lack of decency, but if she was going to go all in, she would have fun in the mean time.

His face pinched. "Perhaps tomorrow, when it's had time to be prepared."

"I asked the house elves to make it this morning," she said with a smile that told him he wasn't getting out that easily.

Digging himself further into a pit of pretend ignorance, he sat himself back down. "If you insist."

A house elf made itself present once more.

"Cream." She reminded it, and was given a heavy dollop on top of the glistening treat.

Lucius seemed less disgusted with cream than he was with the wine, and accepted some as well. His first bite was interrupted however, by Drea's show of dipping her spoon into the delicious substance and licking it off slowly.

" _Mmm._ " She hummed in delight.

He slammed his fork down on the table. "Are you about finished, Drea?" He demanded.

She gave him a look of mock sympathy. "Oh, Father. No. I've only just begun."

"This is not a war to be won."

"But it is, to me. And I will be victorious."

Tired of fighting or bested in battle, he scoffed and left the dining room.

 

Over the next few days, Drea's efforts were doubled. Low-cut robes and provocative positions, she'd even taken to reading his parchment over his shoulder to see how far he would let her go, and she could tell she was wearing him down. Where he used to object, he now tolerated her displays. His irritation was replaced with passivity, but once in a while she would meet a hard line he would not accept. Taking a post-bath stroll past his study with only a towel and slippers on was one of them. Touching him at all was another.

Her patience was rewarded one day in the library when she caught him watching her tongue trail across her lips after taking a drink of firewhisky. His eyes flashed back to his parchments immediately, but it was progress.

Another day passed and she got more daring with her wardrobe. It was very warm this summer, after all, and that was excuse enough. A short dress, almost a slip really, blessed their breakfast table and Lucius's distaste was palpable. 

"You look like a harlot."

"Good morning to you too, Father."

"Put on proper clothing this instant."

"I'm rather comfortable as I am."

"You're doing a disservice to your upbringing." She could tell his heart wasn't in their debate.

"You have no conviction in your words lately. If you're trying to bore me into giving up, I might just work harder to get a rise out of you." He watched her with wary eyes as she got up and knelt beside him to place a hand on his thigh. "What kind of rise should I work toward, Father?" 

He shot up from his chair, startling her hand away and sending his chair cluttering to the floor before he made a furious exit. She sat frozen to the floor with shock, but she was entranced.

She'd seen it. He was hard.


	18. Rejection

It could have been the feeling of triumph from breakfast, or it could have been that she was growing less patient by the day, but by nightfall Drea found herself about to enter her father's bedroom for the first time she could ever recall. She had known where it was of course from wanderings through the manor in her childhood, yet stepping foot within it had been silently forbidden. Regardless of her attempts to cross paths with him throughout the day, he had been nowhere to be found and where better to encounter him than the one place he would have to return to?

Upon entering, her eyes immediately fell to his bed. She hadn't thought of him as the type to have such sparse bedding of only a sheet and duvet, but the top cover seemed soft enough to lie on in her wait. Before she would decide on the perfect pose however, she wanted to look around his private sanctuary. Sinful though she felt, invading his privacy was the least of her offenses during the last week and she reasoned with herself that surely there couldn't be much to find anyway. Still, she looked. A large dresser was against the Northmost wall, even bigger than her own, made of dark wood with two small tables and a nightstand to match within the room. All were decorated tastefully as if expecting visitors to stop by, though the likelihood of that was negligible as far as she could assume. She aimed her investigation at the nearest items to her, turning to look at the vases and whatnot on the first table. Having no drawers to go through, she passed over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer eagerly. It was bare and disappointing, but undeterred her hand found the next drawer and slid it open to reveal nothing but dust.

Her brows knitted together, this couldn't be all his room had to offer. She didn't have long to ponder the oddity of it as footsteps made themselves known on the other side of the wall. With haste, she jumped onto the bed and assumed a lazy, sensual position in the center of it. The doorknob rounded and the heavy door creaked open, her heart doubling its beats as he stepped into the room, only to freeze and drop his cane at the sight of her.

"Welcome home, Father." Her head fell to the side a bit while she took in her view. He seemed wary, and... did she smell alcohol?

"Have you gone mad?" His eyes wandered her freely but his words disagreed with them.

"A 'thank you' would have been-"

He cut her off. "Have you gone mad?!" He stepped toward his bed, his fists curling at his sides. "How many lines must you cross?!"

She shrieked instead of answering when his hand darted out to her ankle and yanked her to the edge of the bed with little grace. If his words had been any more forgiving, she may have enjoyed his roughness, but a very real fear began to creep up her spine at the rage she saw in his bleary eyes. "I was-"

"Enough!" His hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her off of the bed, no doubt leaving an angry bruise behind while she unwillingly stumbled toward the door from his push. "Leave!"

Drea turned around with a huff, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I will not! And how _dare_ you touch me like that!"

His head whipped around, hair twirling from the force of it. "Oh I do apologize, I thought you _wanted_ to be touched!"

"You know bloody well that's not what I mean!" She stepped to him, raising herself up as tall as she could be.

"You're being selective now, is it? You can touch me in ways no daughter should ever dare but the same permissions aren't granted for me?" His argument was incomprehensible to her, but judging by his swaying stance, she gave little merit to his ability to think.

"That doesn't even make any sense, just how drunk are you?"

"I'm not drunk enough to-"

"Is that," her eyes fell upon his neck, where a dark red mark smeared across it, "is that _fucking lipstick_?!"

Lucius sneered, taking an intimidating step toward her. "It's none of your business if it is!"

"Did you fuck someone!" It was more of a shout than a question. She stepped back from the bit of fear still remaining that hadn't been overshadowed by anger.

"Have you not been intrusive enough tonight?"

"Who?!"

"None of your damned business!"

"What kind of woman was she, Father? No one respectable wears red lipstick!"

"Your mother wore red lipstick!"

"Red is the color of prostitutes!"

 _Slap_ . A sharp sting reddened her cheek, her left ear rang. A dullness spread within her mind either from pain or crippling realization. "You would rather fuck a _prostitute_ than me?" Her voice lost any ferocity it held moments before, fat tears welling up in her eyes. Rejected, again, how much more could she take?

"I see you're catching up." He stared at her with cool, hollow eyes.

"Your cruelness truly knows no bounds." Her breathing turned rapid along with her falling tears. She swallowed, and a pained look crossed her face, as if the constriction of her throat was too much for her.

"You have no idea just how cruel I can be Drea, but you yourself don't realize the toll you've taken on me, tempting me everywhere I go, forcing disgusting thoughts into my mind that no father should ever have to endure. I have given you many chances to correct your behavior but you refuse!"

She hiccuped through her tears. "But why? Why sleep with some Knockturn Alley whore when I'm waiting, begging you every day?"

"Because a Knockturn Alley whore is not my daughter." He took a sharp intake of breath and his hand darted to his wrist. His nostrils flared in frustration and he stalked over to his nightstand to retrieve his robes, and Drea absently realized that of course he would charm them against snooping. "Vacate my room by the time I return or you will gain a new understanding of cruelty."

He Apparated from the room and Drea was left alone once more.

Her legs gave out from the pressure of it all. She whispered quietly into the room to him, though he was gone. "It's not my fault." She pulled her knees in and rested her head on them as she began to cry in earnest. " _It_ _'s not my fault_."


	19. Resolution

Drea's empty gaze meandered along the lines of her bedroom ceiling. Her body felt limp, her limbs numb and refusing to move. Her eyes had long since dried and crusted from her tears, but she had no care or notice of it. Before when he, her father, had rejected her, it had taken a great toll on her mind but was easily mended when he showed remorse for his actions. This time she knew it would be different. She knew in the back of her mind how rotten the situation was that she put upon him, and that any other man would have given in to her sloppy seduction or sent her away to be dealt with elsewhere, but Lucius was a different kind of man. One to wallow in his mistakes and soar in his triumphs, he would no doubt be the kind of man to take out his self loathing on someone beneath him, servant or otherwise. When faced with a young, virginal body dancing before his eyes day in and day out, it was no wonder that he would turn to someone who could clear his mind of the sexual daze it brought. To keep himself from acting. To protect her.

The ruminations were refreshing in her dreary state, for they provided an answer that should have been her first resort. As always, she was a terrible Slytherin. She simply needed to make him an offer, a deal. Slytherins couldn't resist a good deal.

 

The next morning she had no expectations. Being on the other end of the manor, she had no idea what time he returned from his meeting with the Dark Lord, if at all. That was fine, she supposed. As before, she would wait. Drea stretched her aching body, wiggling her feet that had fallen asleep. She got out of bed and headed to the washroom to rid herself of the rheum along her eyes, and emerged refreshed and resolved. No makeup and her usual robes, previous to when this all began, adorned her as she stepped out in search of her father.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he was in his study scrawling away on a parchment. She gently knocked on the door frame and his hand hovered above its spot on the page. Without speaking, he looked up at her with trepidation, which she understood. He seemed relaxed at her apparent return to normalcy, but she knew he was already willing himself to quiet what relief he felt. He was a reasonable person, after all, and had an inclination to what was coming.

"Good morning, Father." She stepped in and took her spot in the chair before his desk.

"Good morning, Drea." He placed his quill down and folded his hands beside it. No questions came, only his undaunted eye contact, which she thought was a decent tactic when one had no footing.

"I have a proposal."

His jaw tightened, and she had to give him credit for not immediately dismissing her. She had his interest. "Then let's hear it."

"I want you to sleep with me."

Lucius did a decent job showing little of his discomfort. "Is that all?"

"No. Well, more or less, yes."

"You do realize that's not quite a proposal?" His chin tilted up; his formal, businesslike attitude almost brought a smile to her lips.

"I do. While I know it sounds foolish, I truly believe it to be the best option we have."

"There are plenty of other alternatives."

"And none of them will work. We both know that I won't be able to build a proper Occlumency shield against you, I can't focus. Spending more time with you only makes me desire you more. Sending me away would look suspicious to our relations and acquaintances in a time when we need to remain as inconspicuous as possible, and I would refuse anyway." His lips set a fine line of dissatisfaction as she continued, and she knew he was seeing her side. "If you sleep with me, it would sate whatever curiosities and needs I have, and we can put this behind us."

"What if it exacerbates your 'needs'?"

"Then I will seek the assistance of a mind healer."

"Why not seek it now?"

"Do you want me to go straight to a healer, when we know every one of them can be extorted and bribed because you yourself have done so in the past? My secret,  _our secret_ , certainly wouldn't be safe with them."

He unfolded his hands and leaned back in his chair in thought. "I need time to consider."

"I will give you until tomorrow."

He swallowed, his mind already made up. "Thank you."


	20. Retribution

Preferring to have breakfast alone in her bedroom, Drea shooed away a house elf as soon as it finished pouring her tea. She picked up a piece of an orange and began to chew away at it, considering how the rest of her day may unfold. Even now, her father could be organizing an intervention of sorts complete with a trip straight to St. Mungo's with some brawny mediwitches wielding straps and cage-like apparatuses, happily taking the hit of disgrace against the Malfoy name just to get her 'fixed'. Silly imaginings aside, the possibility of her years of dreams and desires being validated gave her the optimism necessary to keep herself from being sick from nerves. In just a few hours, she could finally be in the arms of the single man she deemed worthy of having her.

 

Lucius watched the blonde couple in the picture frame with resignation. His face, so much younger then, stole glances at his bride every few seconds with a proud smirk on his face. His beautiful wife primmed with affection and sophistication, and sometimes a tug pulled her smile a bit wider, as she must have known that he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Despite their arranged marriage, Lucius and Narcissa did indeed love each other deeply, and whether any of his future adversaries thought he was capable of such love didn't matter to him because from the moment they spoke their vows, his life became dedicated to the upkeep of his namesake and family, which he was pleased to bare. So many years later, having endured the loss of the love of his life and bringing up their daughter on his own, he thought he would be wiser. But all he felt for himself at this moment was contempt, for he was a fool.

His eyes reluctantly roamed to the frame beside it, displaying the two women he cared for more than anything. Narcissa, somehow even more lovely with fine lines decorating her eyes and lips, stood with one hand on the shoulder of their legacy, their perfect daughter of bright silver eyes and blonde hair plaited to the side with a beaming smile that her mother had tutted was much too undignified for a proper family portrait. His wife had been disappointed when she learned they were having a daughter rather than a son who could carry on the prestigious name of Malfoy, and Lucius had at times needed to remind her that the name of his ancestors would never be forgotten. And he hadn't worried, knowing that any girl lucky enough to be under his wife's guidance would be worthy of betrothal to only the purest bloodlines, and, they thought at the time, they could always try for a son later.

He turned the frames away and rested his elbows on his knees, head falling onto his palms. Of all of the mistakes he had made in his life, he felt that the one he faced now was the most devastating. He was disgusted with the task that lied ahead of him, and even more disgusted that a small, exhausted part of him was looking forward to it.

 

A time hadn't been agreed upon, but an hour after dinner, they bumped into each other in the hallway heading to his study and stopped there. Feeling sentimental, she had dressed herself in one of the lovely robes Lucius had given her, while he appeared in his semi-formal attire for public outings, which she appreciated.

Drea opened her mouth to speak, and was interrupted by Lucius holding up one finger.

"I have one condition."

She shifted her weight to her other foot. "Very well."

"Not your room, and certainly not mine."

Although it meant that the hour of tidying and rearranging her bedroom like a nervous house elf had gone to waste, she understood his request. "Then where?"

"One of the guest rooms."

After a bit of consideration, she nodded, thinking of her favorite. "Would the Red Room have your approval?"

"Yes, if you wish." He bowed his head to her and turned to lead the way.

The walk through the manor was silent, and Drea took deep breaths to calm her rapidly beating heart. When they arrived at the Red Room, Lucius held open the door for her to enter first, but her feet found themselves rooted in their spot.

"Having second thoughts?" He teased, as if the situation didn't have his head spinning as much as hers.

She lifted her head in a distinctly Malfoy fashion and moved into the room. "Of course not."

Lucius chuckled as she past him, sending a shiver of electricity up her neck. As he walked in behind her, he muttered a spell to light the candles beside the bed and closed the door behind himself.

Drea turned around to him and paused. "How do you want to begin this?"

"I assumed you would take the reigns."

"Then I will." She undid and dropped her robes to reveal black lingerie hidden beneath. She stepped out of them, drawing closer to her father and placing a hand on his chest, "Thank you for this," and kissed him.


	21. Kindling

Like before, Drea felt like a bolt of lightning had shot through her, standing on the tips of her toes to reach up to him. Her fingers tingled as she met his soft, thin lips and began to press her body against him. His ungloved hands didn't move from their place at his sides, but gradually, his mouth became responsive and started to return her gentle affections. A minute later, when she brought a second hand to caress his cheek as they kissed, his hands awakened and began to roam her pale skin. The friction of his fine suit against her half-covered breasts tickled her in the most delicious way, the wool scratchy but exciting while she moaned, opening her lips to discover him further with her tongue. She could feel the warmth of his erection through his trousers already, and Drea couldn't stop herself from pressing her pelvis against it eagerly. One of his hands traveled up to the base of her neck, tilting her head back further to allow himself more access to her mouth while another hand rested on the small of her back and pulled her flush against him.

His hand tightened in her hair just enough to pull her face away from his. For a moment he regarded her lust-addled features, her wet mouth still open and panting from exploration, then he closed his eyes and tilted his face toward the ceiling, calming himself. "Get onto the bed."

Drea quickly did so, her nethers already aching and impatient. She knelt at the foot of it, watching as he began to disrobe. His hands deftly undid his cuffs, tugging on his jacket sleeves so he could shrug it off, but when he moved to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, she stopped him. "Wait."

His brows knitted together and he stopped his ministrations.

"Let me, please." She crawled forward toward him and worked her way down the buttons, reveling in the show of his chest slowly becoming visible. When she finally finished, she placed her hands flat on his chest and felt him, roaming his flesh from his shoulders to his forearms. She took his forearm, marked for his service, pulled it closer to her face and kissed it, hoping to show him her gratitude for what he did to better her future. Drea looked up to meet his gaze, now fiery and passionate, and smiled.

Her smile was not returned, but she didn't mind. Desire dripped from his voice as his hands went to his belt buckle. "Lie down."

Drea eased over to the center of the bed, lying back onto her elbows to continue watching him. The clink of metal sounded like an echo in the back of her mind, her pulse drowning out nearly everything else. Her body felt like it had been lit aflame, desperately waiting for the next time their skin would touch. He unbuckled his belt, not bothering to pull it out of his trousers, and dropped them both to the floor.

She felt a bit silly when she gasped at his sex, but she couldn't help it once her eyes had settled onto his manhood. "Please," she whispered at him, once again meeting his steel gaze.

He began his descent onto the bed, moving up to hold himself above her. His long hair fell in a curtain around her face as he spoke to her in a quiet, commanding tone. "Do not call me anything but Lucius in this bed."

Drea shook her head. "I won't."

Again, their lips met. Little mewling noises escaped her while she tried mindlessly to connect with him again, his body hovering just inches above hers. Finally, his hands moved to cup her breasts and she felt like her chest would burst with excitement. Her nipples hardened at his lazy touch, his thumbs circling then pulling them out from the confines of her bra so her pink buds were no longer hidden from the world. Their tongues brushed each other, lascivious in their pursuit to memorize each others mouths.

One of his hands abandoned her breasts in search of a more sensitive target and reached its destination underneath her knickers. He slid a finger between her wet lips, gliding over her clitoris with the softness of a breeze and she whimpered into the room. His hand stayed in place as she rocked herself against it with abandon until he bit her lip to silence her. Shocked, her eyes opened and locked with his.

His breaths were heavy and rapid, but his tone was cautious. "You can't undo this once it has started."

She nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Lucius..." she swallowed, "please."

Lucius bared his teeth in either frustration or hunger before sitting back to pull her knickers off. She felt her sticky wetness cool as the air in the room assaulted it, but the coldness was replaced with radiating heat as he moved on top of her and positioned himself at her entrance. His head began to ease into her and her eyes screwed shut, finding herself unable to do anything but accept the pleasure he gifted her. Slowly and carefully, he pushed himself deep within and she felt him pulse inside of her, drawing a small moan from her lips. The sensation was foreign to her, but the primal haze clouding her mind knew she wanted to feel it again.

He glided his cock back out of her and smoothly back in, starting an easy rhythm that built up in speed as their passions grew. Soon, she was snapping her hips up to meet with his deep strokes, her arms wound around his neck as she mumbled sweet cries of appreciation in his ear.

After what felt like glorious ages, Lucius stiffened and attempted to pull out of her, but Drea quickly wrapped her legs around him and brought her hand to her clit.

"Release me!"

Eagerly, she plied and rubbed her bud, continuing to grind against his cock. "Come!" He looked as if he were about to object again, but it was too late. They came loudly, feeling him pulse deep inside of her womanhood, unable to stop himself.

HIs jaw tight and forehead dripping sweat, he stared down at her. "Tell me you took a contraceptive potion."

She looked up at him, a lopsided smile on her face. "Of course I did."

Lucius exhaled relief and pulled himself out of her. "Then I can only hope that this has sated your curiosity."

Drea rolled over in the bed with a pleased sigh, allowing his seed to trickle down her thigh onto the duvet while she relaxed. He dressed himself and exited the bedroom.


	22. Ember

Breakfast was quiet until halfway through, Lucius began to discuss the recent plans of the Dark Lord with her. Drea nodded and supplied opinions where they were warranted and he either agreed or informed her of the reasoning behind the things she didn't approve of. It was pleasant.

After breakfast they retreated to different areas of the manor, Lucius to his study and Drea to the library. She chose a book that she hadn't yet read, which was unlike herself, and comfortably lazed away the morning until lunch. She was startled when a house elf appeared with a tray of lunch sandwiches, and even more startled when her father came into the room, cane in hand, to eat with her. Again, it was pleasant.

When the afternoon arrived, she was oddly tired from reading and opted for a nap in her bedroom before supper. Her day so far had been wonderful upon retrospect, having to admit to herself that the return to easy summer life, with no heavy-handed seduction or needing to brainstorm of how to entice her father, was quiet nice. Rested, she got up and stretched on her way to the closet and chose a robe she rarely wore despite its beautiful color, fitting her feeling of newness, then made her way downstairs to the dining room.

The house elves were just plating food when she walked in, her father not yet present. She took the spot to his right rather than his left today, again following her odd pattern of changing small things. She was halfway through a glass of white wine when Lucius finally strolled in, head high, confidence incarnate. 

"Busy day, Father?" She asked, eyeing his travelling robes and the gloves still on his hands.

"Lucius," he corrected her as he took his spot at the head of the table and removed his gloves to begin eating.

She gave him an owlish look, drawn back briefly to thoughts of the Red Room and their night together.

"Yes, in fact. The Dark Lord has ordered me to provide assistance to some of his foreign contacts looking to relocate here."

"I see." She slowly raised a forkful of food while thinking it over, enveloping it with her mouth and pulling the clean fork out from between her pursed lips. She chewed and swallowed. "Where will they be staying?"

She looked up to see him staring at her lips with an unreadable expression. "An unplottable house South of here that is currently unused." He drew his attention back to his meal.

"Is your only part in it funding? I imagine they'll need some one to familiarize them with London."

"Looking to volunteer?"

Repulsed, she made a face and continued to look at him. "No thank you."

Lucius smiled, "Then perhaps you would like to join me in the study. You can assist me with writing the last of my instructions to them."

"Of course."

 

Hours passed and the letters were ready to be given to the owls for delivery. Lucius stood from his desk and walked over to the liquor cabinet, offering her a glass when she followed him. Drea took it and a seat in her usual chair, as did he. She watched him drink from his glass before she took a sip of her own.

She managed to swallow a bit of air with the Firewhisky and began to cough a bit as the painful heat made its way down. Lucius leaned forward to offer her a handkerchief from his pocket and placed a hand on her knee with concern.

"Are you alright?" He asked when her sputtering died down.

"Yes, thank you, I just forgot how to swallow apparently." She laughed at her self, clearing her throat, and pressing his handkerchief to her lips to clean them. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled through it.

Sometime throughout the day, she had managed to convince herself that she was in fact sated.

"Lucius?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Do you wear this often when you go out?"

"I do, but-" his mouth shut and his eyes narrowed as he looked from the piece of cloth to her eyes, hooded as she gazed at him. "Drea..."

"What?" She asked, her speech muffled through the fabric.

"Remove the handkerchief from your face. Now."

"But it smells  _so good_." She grinned.

"Shit." He swore under his breath and removed his hand from her, rubbed his forehead, and leaned back in his chair again.

"Don't act so upset, you seemed to enjoy yourself last night. Surely a repeat wouldn't be so abhorrent?"

"Be quiet."

"Don't like the truth, Father- I mean, Lucius?"

"Be quiet!" He held his hand on his forehead, shielding her from his eyes.

"You and I both know you wanted it, don’t you even _try_ to deny it."

His eyes shot to hers. "I did not! I did everything in my power to stop it from happening!"

She threw the cloth to the side and barked back at him, "You went to that prostitute because it was working! I would have had you eventually if I had been more patient!"

Furiously he stood and began to stalk away from her, aiming for the door.

"You could have made it terrible for me!" She got up to her feet and followed him into the hallway.

He turned his head to look back at her but continued forward. "It wouldn’t have been right of me to ruin your first time with a man!"

She scoffed. "Don’t pretend that’s why you did it, there’s no high ground with this, Father. If you had made me regret asking, if I hadn’t enjoyed it, I wouldn’t want you more!"

" _Damned hankerchief_... I was going to!"

She caught up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him to face her. "But you didn’t, did you? You let your lust take over! You seduced me, I saw it in your eyes, you wanted it just as much as I did!"

He ripped his arm away and grabbed her by the wrists, forcing her against the wall. "Because you made me want you!"

"Because that’s exactly what you did to me!"

Lucius growled "I'm sorry!" and pressed his lips to hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth.


	23. Scorch

Drea lifted her leg to encircle his hip, pulling him tightly against her body. His grip on her wrists was fierce, gluing her to the wall while he pummeled her mouth.

Why couldn't this be part of their "normal"? What made it so bad when it felt so incredible? Her robes were tight, wrapped around his leg, and when he attempted to move against her, he was trapped in them. Frustrated, he pulled his hands away, "Go in," and gestured toward one of the doors a few feet away from them, Drea now noticing he had led them straight to the Red Room. She hastily entered it, disrobing herself like a horny Hufflepuff just discovering the Room of Requirement. He followed closely behind her and slammed the door shut, wasting no time in pushing her backward onto the bed to meet her mouth again. One hand wound around her neck while the other addressed his buckle and freed his cock from its restraints. Drea reached down below and maneuvered herself out of her knickers before her hands quested under his shirt to feel his hot skin. She dug her nails into his back, begging him to enter her.

He guided himself into her with one savage thrust and lifted one of her legs up at the knee to drive in further. "Fuck!" She cried out, breaking their kiss. He rested his head beside hers and drove into her with no preamble, panting harshly as her walls clutched him and pulsated. Their bed creaked and the headboard banged against the wall from his movements, ferocious in his taking of her, while the wet sounds of his cock pistoning in and out echoed around them.

She babbled incoherently in his ear while he fucked her for almost half an hour, though it felt like mere minutes, " _Yes, yes yes!_ "

He chuckled between breaths, "Enjoying yourself, Cissa?"

Her mind stopped.

Cold, in her heart. She felt cold. He was imagining her mother, not her, writhing beneath him.

It hurt. It hurt her more than she could have ever imagined, but... did it matter?

_No._

"Harder, Lucius." She cooed, entwining one of her hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

Soon, he came, emptying himself in her with no second thought and collapsed on top of her. She didn't move from under him or speak, wondering if not only her mind, but his as well, was unclouded again.

They stayed that way for several minutes before she noticed silent sobs emanating from the body above hers.

"I miss her." His timid whisper fell into her ear.

Drea stared at a small crack in the ceiling that matched the crease between her brows. "I'm sorry." She touched her nose to his cheek and rubbed it affectionately, despite the pain of her heart breaking.


	24. Inferno

Drea stared into the puffy face of Harry Potter and tried to keep tears from forming.

"Well?" The psychopath with her mother's eyes waited desperately for her confirmation.

After everything, all of this, could she really see her family surviving Voldemort's wrath, even if he won? "It's him."

 

They'd escaped. Her father was damned, she thought, as he was made a spectacle of in the middle of their home. She hoped that some day she could forget the sounds of his pained screams echoing in her mind.

 

Drea was terrified for her father's safety, but knew that reinforcements would help more than her own wand in the battle. She followed her fellow Slytherins out of the castle.

 

"Is my daughter still alive?" Lucius whispered, quiet and terrified.

Silence, then "Yes."

He rose to his feet, leveling his features. "Dead."

 

The Dark Lord's limp body fell to the ground in a pathetic heap, like any other mortal. It was unceremonious, anticlimactic almost, but the relief it brought to her was unexpected and welcome. When she dared to glance at her father through the hoard of Slytherins around her, she was expecting a broken man, and was surprised to find a twinkle of hope in his eyes instead.

 

There was an odd mixture of optimistic panic surrounding them in the Great Hall. They hadn't spoken since the battle, but no words needed to be passed between them. She slid her hand across the table to hold his, and their eyes met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for changing some of the important parts of the story, though the end clearly remained the same more or less.


	25. Pyre

Their name was disgraced, and her options for finding a husband were slim. Drea huffed a mirthless laugh looking back at all of Theodore's advances she'd rebuffed in school, but wishful thinking didn't do much to help her right now.

She began to dry her wet hair in front of the mirror, falling straight in a cascade down her back. She parted it down the middle and brushed it until it finished drying, then reached for the top drawer of her vanity. Her hand hesitated above the small tube of lipstick she had found in her mother's bedroom when she went looking for it her first night back. She took it, and a small smile found its way onto her face as she applied it.

It would be their first night back in the manor together since the Battle of Hogwarts, between Lucius being confined for questioning and her having to take care of the dozens of small problems that arose when the dust had settled. They had greeted each other with tears and open arms when he was released that morning, but avoided each other for their own reasons until after dinner. 

Drea walked to her closet to choose her favorite robe, one of his gifts, then headed downstairs.

 

When she entered the study, she was happy to see Lucius seated at his desk once again rather than the snake that had taken his place for months before. He sat unmoving, stuck in the surreality of it all. 

She stepped over to him and rested her hand on his, breaking him of his daze. He looked up to meet her eyes and stood.

"Lucius." She addressed him with a half smile.

His eyes fell to her red lips, then rose to her silver gaze once more. "Drea."

"I've missed you." She said as she raised her hands to rest on his shoulders.

He placed his hands on her hips in return and lifted his chin, "I'm back now."

Drea giggled, "I'll pretend you said, 'I missed you too'," and drew closer to him.

He smirked arrogantly, erasing some of the tension in his features, and pulled her in tight. "Alright, I missed you too."

Both looking forward to their twisted new definition of normalcy, they kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so very much for hanging with me until the end. It took ages for me to finish this and I'm so sorry. I hope you enjoyed this fucked up story and if you don't feel like leaving a comment, kudos make my heart sing!


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